


Worth It

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 00:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2170257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The charming ryuutsu requested some Zevris to the prompt of “laughter”. So, here you are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worth It

“Ah, so how  _sexy_  is this new ship of yours, hmm? On scale of say, one to ten?” Zevran speaks easily, in a light and teasing tone as he walks beside Isabela. They are both very short, and in order to continue walking behind them Fenris must slow his pace, but it is not too terribly uncomfortable. The warm wood of the pier feels good below his bare feet. He cannot understand why the both of them insist on their leather boots when the ground can feel so _good._

“Oh, she’s an eleven.” Isabela says confidently, and Zevran’s laugh is quick and sharp: Fenris enjoys seeing the other elf laugh. He laughs with ease, at anything and everything, quick to be joyful in a way few men are. He’s  _witty_ , too – witty in a way that is less dry than Varric’s fashion.

And his accent is pleasing. Not that Fenris would admit it.

“An  _eleven_? Is very high. You said this of your last boat, my dear Isabela, and yet…” They have been bantering back and forth for some time now, and Fenris basks comfortably in his silence. He enjoys hearing the other two speak – their humour is much of the time in line with his own, and does not need his contribution.

“And yet? What do you mean, “and yet”, Antivan?” Isabela sounds more than mock-offended, now. She always has been somewhat protective of her sailing vessels, Fenris supposes.

“Why,  _Rivaini_ , I merely me-  _ah!_ ” Isabela has tripped the assassin, and Fenris stares as Zevran tumbles from the jetty and into the water with a loud splash. Isabela puts her hands on her wide hips and beams, delighted.

The Antivan rises from the water, and his braid is thoroughly ruined by the seawater, which Fenris imagines he will soon coax the Dalish mage into fixing for him, and he gasps as he grasps at the edge of the pier, pulling himself up slightly.

Fenris begins to laugh.

It begins a slow rumble in his belly, and soon enough he is laughing outright, one hand spread on his chest and the other on his thigh as he bends over. Zevran had looked so very  _shocked_  as he’d flown off the dock, and now he is wet and flushed at the cheeks, and he looks so very  _ridiculous._

“Am I betrayed by all of my friends?” Zevran cries to the sky above, all faux-dramatics.

“You have no friends.” Isabela retorts, but she chuckles as she says the words.

“Fenris, you are my friend, no? Come, assist me from the water. I am not so tall – I cannot quite get myself leverage. If, of course, you are done  _chortling_ at the cruel attack of the evil temptress beside me.” Isabela laughs at that, and Fenris still chuckles as he steps forwards, leaning down and offering the smaller man his hand.

Fenris tumbles in after him, and the water is  _cold_  – he treads water gasping for air.

Really, he supposes he ought have expected this.

He looks to Zevran, who is laughing with utter delight, and he grabs at the front of the other man’s leather armour, pulling him closer.

“What is it, handsome man, hmm? We are both wet-”

“Be quiet.” Fenris says, and then he presses his lips to Zevran’s, putting his hands in the other man’s wet hair and enjoying the way the smaller elf sighs against his lips. When he pulls away, Zevran looks at him with a small grin.

“Won’t you help me from this water? I have Antivan blood! I get cold  _very_ easily-” Fenris dunks his head under the water, and his lip twitches as Isabela cackles above them. He lets the other man go, and Zevran uses Fenris’ shoulders to pull himself back up, gasping for air. “ _Rude!”_

“Yes.” Fenris agrees. “Use my shoulder as a step. I’ll pull myself up.” Zevran beams at him. He is very pleasing to the eye, when he smiles. Fenris delights in the sight.

“Very well, my lovely friend.”

“I am not lovely.”

“ _Lies_. Come now, assist me in climbing you. You are very tall, after all.”


End file.
